


If You Wish To Be Loved, Love

by GloriaVictoria



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Celebrations, Desk Sex, Emotional Constipation, Explicit Sex, First Time, Just Kiss: An Essay, Love Confessions, M/M, Party, Post PR1, Post-Movie: Pacific Rim (2013), Semi-Public Sex, Uprising Didn't Happen, blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-03 20:18:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14576856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GloriaVictoria/pseuds/GloriaVictoria
Summary: After the sealing of the Breach, the PPDC throws a gala to celebrate. Naturally, Hermann and Newt make it a spectacle of denial and avoidance, rather than an opportunity to relax, have fun, and maybe deal with the emotional constipation they’ve imposed on themselves for twelve years.





	If You Wish To Be Loved, Love

**Author's Note:**

> Title is a quote from Seneca: "Si vis amari, ama."
> 
> Thanks to the K-Science Bros Discord chat, as usual, for supporting my work and ideas.
> 
> ******* Like my work? Consider supporting me by buying me a Ko-Fi! https://ko-fi.com/C0C5CWYM *******

When Hermann had imagined the end of the War, the closing of the Breach, he had expected a considerable degree of pomp and circumstance. Ten years of fighting, dying, rationing, working… they deserved celebration, to be sure. Unfortunately, Hermann’s idea of “celebration” didn’t quite match that of the PPDC.

“Marshall Hansen, surely you can make an exception. I… do not do well at parties.”

“Dr. Gottlieb, please understand. If I made an exception for you, half the Shatterdome would demand the same. The PPDC High Command insisted that everyone on the team attend, and that’s all there is to it.” Hansen sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Myself included. Trust me, I’d much rather spend my time at home, with my son and my dog. It’s not so bad. Just one more hoop to jump through.”

“Or _dance_ through, as the case may be.” Hermann grimaced. “Which brings my to my other concern.” He tapped his bad leg with the butt of his cane. “My condition prevents me from enjoying these sorts of events as intended.”

“Gottlieb.” Hansen’s tired eyes narrowed. “You really expect me to believe that you’d dance at a party, bum leg or not?” This stung Hermann a bit, and he let Hansen know it.

“Perhaps I would, but I guess we’ll never know, shall we?”

“I’m sorry, Doctor. I shouldn’t have…” Hansen scratched the back of his head, a penitent look on his face. “Look: just have a few drinks, try to relax, and it will end faster than you think. There’s really not much I can do at this point, mate.”

“I suppose saving the world doesn’t grant you special treatment. Very well.” Hermann sniped petulantly as he limped out of LOCCENT, thinking briefly to himself that he’d almost sounded like Newton.

Truth be told, Hermann hadn’t tried to get out of the gala for the sake of his leg or his social anxiety--though both had certainly caused him concern. In fact, part of him wanted very badly to attend, and therein laid his real conundrum: if he went to this party, he’d have to face Newton. They’d not really spoken since they Drifted three days ago, what with the testing and medical treatments and _sleeping_ , frankly.

That experience had changed Hermann.

Chief among many other things, twelve years of denying his feelings for Newton had come to a screeching halt. The scales of his stubbornness and denial had from his eyes, and now Hermann found himself literally pining for Newton: his obnoxious laughter, his garish tattoos, his hands, his terminally messy hair. All of it. More to the point, Hermann wanted to go get it -- he just didn’t know how.

Besides, he knew exactly how this party would go. He’d dress in his nicest tweed suit ( _“Who the hell wears tweed to a party, Herm?”_ ) and stand awkwardly by the punch bowl, watching Newton in his unreasonably tight trousers dancing with That Cutie from J-Tech, whispering one-liners to her, smiling as she giggles and presses herself closer--

Hermann admitted to himself at this point that this anti-fantasy had gotten a little out of hand.

He’d go home an hour early, alone, make himself a cup of tea and mentally flog himself for being such a pathetic coward. He’d take his shower and go to bed and wake up, and life would go on the way it had for years and years, with him alone and with Newton… well, with Newton elsewhere.

What a lovely evening.

Hermann turned the corner and made his way down the residence hall, passing Tendo Choi carrying a couple of suit bags in one arm and a pair of freshly-shined shoes in the other.

“Hey, Hermann! How’s it goin’, dude?” Hermann forced as convincing a smile as he could muster, and Tendo arched an eyebrow. “You look like a kicked puppy. What’s going on?”

“I’m fine, really.”

“Your ‘smile’ just made you look gassy, dude. Tell me what’s up.” Hermann sighed, turning the head of his cane in his hand.

“It’s...this gala tonight. I don’t want to attend, but the Marshall insists.” Tendo chuckled genially and Hermann glared at him. “Well, I’m glad my plight amuses you.”

“Aw, come on, Hermann. You know I’m not laughing at you.” Tendo shifted the suits in his arms. “Why don’t you wanna go? It’ll be a great time, the brass is footing the bill. Open bar, DJ, great food -- hey, can you open this door for me?” He tapped it gently with his foot.

“Of course.” Hermann leaned over and opened the door to Tendo’s quarters.

“Come on in, let’s talk about it.” Allison waved as Hermann walked in, giving Tendo a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Oh, dear. What’s going on, Tendo? What kind of Shatterdrama have you brought in here today?” Tendo smirked.

“Not sure yet. And hey--definitely the blue dress, babe.” Tendo laid the suits down on the couch and the shoes on the coffee table. “Alright, buddy. Lay it on me.”

“I’d really rather not. It’s not a matter I care to dwell upon.” Tendo rolled his eyes.

“Right, because you’re definitely not going to go to your room and stew on it for hours before shoving your feelings down and emotionally constipating yourself. Okay.”

“...Fine.” Hermann sat down on the couch, minding the suits beside him.

“Don’t worry too much about those. I got them dry cleaned because I haven’t worn them in forever, but I don’t care if they wrinkle. Gives me that sexy tousled look that Allison loves.” Hermann heard Allison snort from the kitchen. “So, out with it.”

“I just find it ridiculous that the PPDC forced us all to attend this gala. This isn’t a school function, we’re not children!”

“Come on, Hermann. You’re really gonna skip a party in your honor?” Hermann shook his head, scowling.

“That’s absurd. If it is to celebrate anyone, it should be Miss Mori and Mr. Becket.” Tendo waved his hand dismissively.

“Look, that’s not really the point, okay? It’ll be fun! Let yourself loose! We can actually enjoy each other’s company, for once!” Hermann didn’t respond immediately, choosing instead to pick at a stray thread on his trousers. Tendo rested his chin in his hand and slowly grinned. “...Hermann. Is this about Newt?”

“No! Absolutely not. Perish the thought.” Tendo smirked.

“Look me in the eye and tell me that.” Hermann’s gaze slid away from Tendo’s. “Uh-huh.”

“Listen, I just--” Hermann closed his eyes and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I won’t enjoy this gala if I have to spend the entire evening watching Newton… Well, you remember what happened at last year’s Halloween party.”

“Well, look. If you’re worried about getting Newt’s attention--”

“That’s not--”

“Hermann. Please.” Tendo shot Hermann an exasperated smile. “If you’re worried about Newton noticing you, then why not make yourself impossible to ignore?” Hermann furrowed his brow in confusion.

“I’m afraid I don’t follow, Tendo.” Tendo chuckled and leaned forward, patting Hermann on the thigh encouragingly.

“Well, then. Allow me to elucidate.”

* * *

 

“No, no, no. This is--this is entirely unacceptable, Tendo. I can’t wear this! It’s--look how tight these pants are! And the pocket square, simply ridiculous. Nobody uses those for their intended purposes, it’s literally a decoration!” Tendo laughed out loud, straightening the pearlescent bow tie he’d just tied around Hermann’s neck.

“Dude. You haven’t even looked at yourself yet.” Hermann huffed and crossed his arms, lips pursed in his trademark expression of quiet dissatisfaction.

“I don’t need to. This whole affair is--”

“Turn around, Hermann.” Hermann rolled his eyes dramatically.

“Fine, but don’t expect to...impress me.” Hermann took a long look at himself in the full-length mirror attached to Tendo’s closet door and felt his words leave him. The man staring back at him didn’t look like him at all, nothing like the frumpy, grouchy man with the too-big parka and the too-short trousers. Tendo had put him in one of his fashionable suits, stiffly pressed and color-coordinated right down to the cufflinks. Hermann had always somewhat envied Tendo for his natural fashion sense and effortless charm, but knew deep down that’d never be him. Now, he at least looked the part, and the transformation shocked him.

“Well? You like?” Hermann didn’t seem to acknowledge Tendo at first, so engrossed was he in running his hands down his chest, examining his collar and turning to look at his back. “Hermann.”

“Ah, y-yes, well...it’s certainly different from anything I’ve ever worn before.” Tendo flashed a wide grin.

“I know right? You look good, Hermann! Dare I say...you look downright sexy.” Hermann’s neck flushed immediately.

“Please, I wouldn’t go so far. But, I...I suppose I do look good, don’t I?” Hermann watched the ghost of a smile creep up to his lips against his wishes as Tendo came around, swiping some gel through his hair and brushing it back away from his face. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d truly thought himself attractive. Had he ever?

Tendo tapped his chin thoughtfully, studying Hermann. “There, perfect. Ideally, I’d cut your hair, but--”

“What? My hair is fine.” Hermann felt a flush creep up his neck when Tendo snorted.

“Dude. You’ve cut your own hair for ten years. You oughta give someone else a shot.” Hermann rolled his eyes. “Well, let me get dressed and we can go to the hotel together. Sound good?”

“I--wait, I’m going to wear this? In public? This is _your_ suit!”

“Yeah, dude. You can borrow it.” Hermann smiled, a flush tinging his cheeks, and he hugged Tendo tight.

“Thank you. I don’t feel quite so foolish anymore. I even feel...quite handsome, actually.”

“Just you wait, buddy.” Tendo grinned in a way that Hermann could only describe as perverse. “One way or another, I get the feeling you’re gonna have a hell of a time.”

* * *

 

Newt had to admit: the PPDC knew how to throw a party when they wanted to. They’d bought out two ballrooms each equipped with a full bar and decorated with the PPDC colors, banners and lights. They’d set up a dance floor -- thank God, who wanted to go to a party without one? -- but nobody seemed drunk or bored enough to jump in, and in any case the DJ hadn’t brought out the good music yet. He wondered if they’d have a disco ball. That’d be pretty dope.

Only a few people had arrived from the Shatterdome, despite the party having begun fifteen minutes ago. Marshall Hansen, in full dress uniform, stood awkwardly beside Chuck, who’d chosen a casual suit with the first few buttons of his shirt undone. Oh, he thought he was _really_ sexy. A J-Tech girl stood across from him, barely listening to him brag about the fight at the Breach against Slattern and the other Kaiju. Newt snorted as the Marshall elbowed him in the ribcage, eliciting a loud “Oi!” Several other techs and engineers he recognized floated around, passing to and fro as they chatted absentmindedly.

Eventually, the crowd began to fill out, and the DJ manned his post, pumping out some generic dance music that faded easily into the background. Raleigh Becket, still sporting scrapes and bruises from his ordeal (not that Newt didn’t have any, Raleigh just looked more badass), walked over to him after quietly speaking to Mako on arrival. Newt waved and grinned a little too big -- he’d been bored out of his gourd, and Raleigh always had entertaining conversations.

“Hey, Newt. Some party, huh?” Raleigh smiled his superhero smile and clapped Newt on the back firmly.

“Eh, yeah, not too shabby. Once the bar opens up, it’s gonna be killer.” Raleigh laughed and put his hands in his pockets.

“I guess so. Hey -- do your suspenders light up?” Newt grinned and snapped them against his chest.

“Yup! Kaiju Blue, baby. You like ‘em?” Raleigh laughed nervously.

“Well, they certainly make a statement.” Raleigh scanned the room quizzically. “I don’t see Dr. Gottlieb. You didn’t come together?”

“Hah!” Newt erupted with laughter. “Yeah, right! I bet that old grandpa will show at the last minute, then creep away to go read his Agatha Christie and eat his crumpets and drink his boring tea.” Raleigh cocked his head to the side, confused.

“Is that really what you think?” Newt grumbled and looked away from Raleigh. Dude had a weird way of cutting to the heart of things that pissed Newt right off.

“So, when’s this shindig supposed to really kick into high gear?” Newt hooked his thumbs into his glowing suspenders.

“Well, Marshall Hansen’s going to say a few words. Then I think -- oh, look. There he goes.” Marshall Hansen ascended the stairs of the small stage where the DJ had set up shop and took the mic.

“Shatterdome, it feels like we’ve been fighting this war for--” Aaaand, Newt tuned Marshall Hansen right out, opting out of the heartfelt (and undoubtedly _super_ boring) speech to look around the room instead. Several people were dabbing their eyes; the Kaidonovskys had already found a dark corner to make out in…

Newt suddenly felt his brain go into total meltdown.

Tendo had just arrived--fashionably late, as usual--and right behind him strode in a creature that looked very much like Hermann Gottlieb, but couldn't possibly be him. This creature had dressed in a well-fitted grey tweed suit, layered over a deep blue dress shirt--had to be silk--with pearl links at the cuffs. Around his neck, he'd tied a pearlescent white necktie and sported a matching pocket square-- _a pocket square._ This creature has also gelled his hair. Newt couldn't take his eyes off him, this....not-Hermann, but he carried the same cane, had the same perpetual look of discomfort on his face, which led to the only other conclusion his brain could muster: Hermann had tried, and not only that, he'd succeeded with flying colors at looking _fine as hell_.

“See? He made it after all.” Raleigh murmured into Newt’s ear.

“Huh? Oh, uh--haha, yeah. Wow. Shocked the hell out of me.” Raleigh just smiled, patting him gently on the back before meeting Mako on the dance floor.

Newton felt suddenly, acutely aware that he hadn’t given a rat’s ass about his appearance. He’d thrown an old blazer over a plain white button down and a pair of tight-fitting slacks, one of his few pairs with no holes or acid burns. He’d worn his standard Doc Martens, his thin black tie. The only sign that he’d put any thought in his outfit at all was his glowing suspenders, which now felt really fucking juvenile all of a sudden. He watched Tendo lean over to whisper something into Hermann’s ear, and took this chance to duck into the crowd and out of sight. He needed a plan, and he needed it now.

* * *

 

Hermann gave the room a cursory scan as he entered with Tendo. The Marshall had not yet finished his speech, which Hermann took to mean that the festivities had not really begun in earnest. Seeing all of his colleagues and coworkers out of uniform felt strange -- such occasions had always come few and far between in the Shatterdome, and even more infrequent as the conflict had reached its boiling point. Everyone looked so happy and at ease… Hermann already felt like he needed a drink.

Tendo leaned over and murmured in his ear. “See him anywhere?” He nudged Hermann with his elbow and winked.

“I -- I beg your pardon?” Hermann supposed he had been looking for Newton, but he saw neither hide nor hair of him. Strange, he’d said earlier in the lab he’d try to be the first one here.

“Yeah, me either. I’ll look for him and send him your way--”

“No!” Hermann hissed and grabbed Tendo by the arm. “Tendo, _don’t_ \-- don’t you dare leave me. I have no earthly idea what I’m doing.” Tendo laughed as the crowd clapped and Marshall Hansen left the stage.

“Listen, Hermann. Just… go to the bar, order a drink. See who comes around. Try talking to someone. You’ll be fine.”

“I highly doubt that!” He called out after Tendo as he weaved his way through the crowd, leaving Hermann alone at the door. Fine -- he’d go get his blasted drink and pretend none of this was happening. Damn it all, he should never have agreed to this.

Hermann made his way to the open bar. As he looked around, he became conscious of the fact that several of his fellow partygoers shot him glances out the corner of their eyes, while others blatantly stared at him as he passed. Yes, he supposed that he looked rather strange right now. They must find this so amusing.

As he approached the bar, he smiled wearily at the young man behind it, whose gaze lingered on Hermann for just a fraction longer than what seemed appropriate. Odd. Was there something on his face?

“Good evening. What can I get for you?”

“Ah, yes -- one old-fashioned please, no ice.”

“No problem, sir.” The young man flashed a mischievous smile and winked. Did he get something in his eye? Once he got his drink he immediately downed half of it, wincing at the unfamiliar burn of alcohol. Normally he’d enjoy his drinks slowly, but he needed the buzz now.

“Good evening, Dr. Gottlieb.” Hermann turned to the sound of his name and found himself face-to-face with a somewhat familiar face, one he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Hermann noticed he had a rather attractive face, at that. His golden hair laid in neat waves, brushed away from his face, and his green eyes--Newton's were greener--shone in the dim light. “Enjoying yourself? One limoncello, please. Thank you.”

“Ah, good evening. I, um… suppose so. As much as one can expect, given I’ve been conscripted into attendance.” Hermann smiled thinly, extending his hand to his new companion. “Have we met?”

The man took Hermann’s hand and shook it once firmly, never once moving his gaze from Hermann’s. For some reason, this made Hermann blush, and he pulled his hand away. “We have, in fact. I work on the engineering floor, I’ve been there for about two years. We met while discussing plans to recode Gipsy Danger.” Hermann’s lips curled upwards and he patted the man on the shoulder genially.

“Yes! Ah, David? David Ziolkowski.”

“That’s right, Doctor. You have a sharp memory. I recall you discussing that code with me. You barely had to reference it. I remember being...very impressed.” David sat down at the bar, patting the stool next to him. “Can we chat?” Hermann looked out at the crowd. “Come on. I don’t want to leave you all alone here, and nobody’s really dancing yet.”

For a moment, Hermann’s mind felt as if it would short-circuit, and he gazed out at the crowd one last time for a glimpse of Newton. None. He chewed his lip, then looked back at David Ziolkowski, who awaited his answer with expectant eyes. “Y-yes. It’d be my pleasure.” Hermann climbed carefully onto the stool; thankfully, it wasn’t terribly tall and had a back to it, and he could balance himself without making his leg too uncomfortable.

“So, how have things been in K-Science?” David asked, taking a long sip of his drink.

“Oh, well. Same old, same old. I’m sure you’ve heard all the rumors and gossip. It’s not as if Newton and I are quiet about the nature of our relationship.” Hermann rolled his eyes and stirred his drink lazily.

“Hm? Oh, the fighting. Yeah.” David chuckled. “It must be difficult, working with a guy you don’t really like or get along with.” Hermann swallowed hard, taking a deep drink of his old-fashioned.

“...Yes. Definitely… very difficult.”

“Are you alright?” David leaned a bit closer. “You look upset.” Hermann rolled his eyes dismissively, but when he looked back at David, he still eyed him with a look of concern. Did he...really want to have this conversation? Since when did anyone seek out conversation with Hermann Gottlieb?

“I’m fine. I just expected Newton to attend, is all. Just like him to skip out on a mandatory event.” David laughed, and Hermann couldn't help but laugh too. David had a charming air about him, and Hermann could feel the alcohol beginning to do his job. Maybe...he could have a good time here.

“Well, you know Geiszler. He marches to the beat of his own drum.”

“You don't have to tell me.” Hermann laughed and he noticed David leaning closer, resting his weight on the bar with his arm. “Are you alright, David?”

“I'm fine, Hermann. Just want to get closer so I can hear you better. Getting kind of loud in here.” Hermann nodded. That made perfect sense, but David had a strange look on his face, almost dreamy. Perhaps he hadn't slept well. At least he listened, unlike some people.

Yes, Hermann thought. He was enjoying himself, against all odds, even without Newton. He smirked. He couldn't wait to tell Newton all about how he'd had a wonderful conversation with a charming gentleman, despite his misgivings. Perhaps Newton's absence had disappointed him. No matter. He could do without. Besides, after twelve years, what was one more night?

* * *

 

Newton leaned up against the back wall of the hotel lobby, panting for breath. Alright, Newton -- get your damn head on straight. So Hermann had somehow Cinderella’d himself into a major hottie. So Newt looked like a complete disaster. It's fine. He could work with this.

Newt has low-key planned on using this party to ask Hermann out, tell him how he really felt. But fuck, he hadn't expected Hermann to show up looking like that. He'd figured they'd meet each other, chat it up, have a few drinks, then Newt would lead him out into one of the unused ballrooms, take his face into his hands, kiss him on the mouth and whisper in his ear…

Okay. Maybe he'd overthought this.

“Hey, Newt! C’mere!” Tendo waved at him, beckoning him forward. Newt jogged over, gesticulating toward the door.

“Tendo! What the fuck was that?” Tendo had the nerve to smirk at him, that smug bastard.

“Well, that was Hermann, Newt.” Newt glares and tapped his foot, and Tendo continued. “I lent him a suit and helped him clean up a bit. That's all. He was nervous about coming to the party, and it helped him feel more secure.”

“Tendo! He's a fuckin’ fox, dude! If I had known he was gonna show up like that I would have tried harder!’ Tendo laughed.

“Look, you asked me to make sure he came, and I did. Didn't say how I'd dress him up.” Newt rolled his eyes and gripped his head dramatically.

“I'm so fucked, dude.”

“You're gonna be, if you don't hurry your ass in there and make a move.”

“What...do you mean?”

Tendo grinned, his hands on his hips. “Dude, you're not the only one who found themselves impressed by the new Hermann Gottlieb.” Newt's eyes widened.

“Oh, fuck, dude!! You think--” Newt let out a loud groan. “Fuck, Tendo…”

“Why the hell are you wasting your time out here, dude? Get on it! Just follow the plan you told me about, and you'll be fine!” Tendo grabbed Newt by the suspender and pulled him back into the ballroom. “You'll be...fine.” Tendo suddenly went quiet.

“What?! ...Tendo?” Tendo pointed to the open bar at Hermann, drinking an old-fashioned and leaning close to some asshole from the engineering department--oh fuck. Hell no.

“You, uh...might wanna speed that up, buddy.” Newt simply stared, deathly silent. Tendo was right, but… maybe it wasn't right to do this. He looked closer at Hermann and the asshole talking. Hermann had a contented smile on his face, and the other guy -- David Ziolkowski, that fucker -- had an arm draped over the edge of the bar, his fingers close enough to touch Hermann's hand. Hermann looked comfortable, happy. He'd never looked that way with Newton, he'd told him as much. _“I simply cannot relax when you're around, Newton. You're such a damned distraction!”_

He couldn't break this up. He couldn't ruin this for Hermann.

“C’mon, dude. I need a drink.” Newt walked to the other bar, on the other side of the double ballrooms, and ordered an LIT. He needed to get fucking wasted, and he needed it fast.

“What--what, you're not going to try? Newt, what the hell, man?”

“Tendo… look at him. He's happy. Why fuck it up for him? He's lonely and sad and he's never had anyone…” Newton remembered all of what he saw in the Drift with Hermann: the years of bullying, the self-hatred, the failed crushes and the way he slowly, methodically, closed himself off from the feeling of love and attraction. He'd thought he saw something else, something that made him hope that maybe, he'd be the one to change that for Hermann. Maybe he'd been wrong. Maybe he's assumed too much.

Oh, but fuckin’ _Ziolkowski_. He'd slid his pretty self right in there, hadn't he? Of fucking course, he thought angrily as he hammered down his drink. Ziolkowski was tall and tan and blonde and completely free of tattoos, smelled like cedar and shitty cologne and for all intents and purposes physically blew Newt right out of the water. He'd probably go home and give Hermann head and convince Hermann to fuck, and the next morning he wouldn't even know that Hermann's leg hurt him in the morning. He wouldn't know how Hermann liked his tea. He wouldn't know anything about him at all.

_...He absolutely did not just touch Hermann's neck._

He _did_. That motherfucker. Didn't he know Hermann had rules about public displays of affection?! Newt chugged the rest of his drink and stormed back into the ballroom, Tendo right behind him cursing nervously.

Fuck it. Maybe he'd ruin his chances. Maybe he'd ruin everything. Since when did he care about breaking the rules?

Fortune favors the brave.

* * *

Hermann had just finished his third drink, and he could feel the heat building in his cheeks. David Ziolkowski hadn’t budged from his place at the bar with him, and he didn’t quite understand why. After all, this was a party, and Hermann wasn’t exactly the main event. By now, the partygoers had proceeded to split off into groups for dancing, the music quite loud and the lights dimmed even more than before. He’d enjoyed the conversation, but David had moved rather close to him, and kept touching his neck and shoulder with his fingertips. Hermann couldn’t figure that out either. He hoped he didn’t have something on him.

“David, ah… You’re really quite an excellent conversationalist. I’ve had a lovely time discussing your work with Jaeger hydraulics, it’s been simply fascinating.” David smiled, sliding his hand over Hermann’s. “Oh, um…” Hermann’s drunken brain couldn’t rationalize what David had just done, but he couldn’t help but notice the warmth of his hands. Blasted circulation…

“You know, Hermann… as much fun as I’m having here, we could always go somewhere more private and, um… you know. Continue our conversation.” David had a weird expression on his face, something between sleepiness and amusement.

“I don’t know, the party really has only just--” Before he could say anything more, he heard an all-too-familiar voice screech from behind them.

 _“Unhand him, Ziolkowski!_ ” David turned his head and frowned, while Hermann just stared, mortified. What in the Devil did that idiot think he was doing? For God’s sake, could he be any more obnoxious? “What the fuck, dude?!”

David stood up and approached Newt, his hands in his pockets and his brow furrowed. “Geiszler. Can I help you?”

“Uhhh, yeah. You can “help me”--” He said, using air quotes, because of course he did. “--by getting away from my lab partner.”

“Geiszler, are you drunk? What the hell do you think you’re on about? I’m having a private conversation--”

“Ohhh, private, huh? Yeah, that’s _suuuper_ private, dude, feeling up on Hermann in plain view of everyone in the damn room!” By now, everyone in the “damn room” was watching, silent except for a few sniggers here and there, and Hermann wanted to die. Tendo, bless him, tried to intervene, but Newton pushed him back out of the way. “Stay out of this, dude. It’s him and me.”

Tendo rolled his eyes. “Right, right. Jesus Christ, Newt…”

“You know, you’re really something else, Geiszler. I honestly wouldn’t have expected something like this from you, and that’s saying something.”

“Hey, fuck you, buddy! I’m trying to protect my lab partner from unwanted advances!” Hermann blinked. Advances?

Oh, my God. That’s what he’d been doing. The little touches and the bit with the hand, and the faces and the leaning… Hermann could scarcely believe that David Ziolkowski -- or anyone else, for that matter -- would do such a thing. His heart pounded in his chest, not from excitement, but from total mortification. He frantically looked around at the crowd before rising from his stool, slipping behind them and out of the ballroom.

“And furthermore--” Newt stopped when he noticed out of the corner of his eye that Hermann had disappeared from his stool, a hefty tip under his glass. Ziolkowski smirked, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Protecting him from unwanted advances, huh? Looks like I’m not the only one that fits into that category.” Newt blanched and pushed Ziolkowski out of the way, rushing past the crowd of people and out to where he hoped Hermann had run.

“Hermann? Shit, shit, fuck, shit. Goddammit, Newt!” He glanced around the hotel lobby and noticed the door to an empty conference room ajar, the lights still off. Newt slowed his approach, poking his head in hesitantly. “Hey… Hermann?” Hermann sat alone at the long table, his head in his hands.

“I… cannot believe you.” Hermann murmured, his eyes trained on the surface of the table. Newt closed the door behind him. “I didn’t even know he had made advances, Newton! I thought he was being polite!”

“You seriously couldn’t tell? Dude, he wasn’t exactly beating around the bush about it.”

“Newton, you don’t understand. I don’t -- I’m not used to this sort of thing! I’ve never, in my life, had someone behave that way toward me. Either I fumble around and make people uncomfortable, or I just… go unnoticed. That’s been my life.” Hermann sighed, rubbing his temples. “I should have known this would blow up in my face. What a stupid…” Newt walked over to Hermann and turned his swivel chair toward him.

“Hey… look at me.” Hermann rolled his eyes and petulantly refused to do so.

“Why? So you can mock me?” Newt put his hands on either side of Hermann’s face, just as he’d imagined doing. “Newton, what on Earth do you think you’re doing?” Hermann’s mind still spun from the drink, from the embarrassment, from everything. He didn’t push Newton away; he couldn’t. His big, sad eyes had mesmerized him.

“No, Herm, so I can -- I’m sorry. Okay? I didn’t think. I’m so fuckin’ drunk and I saw him touching you and I got so -- so fuckin’ mad.” Newt leaned closer, and Hermann felt dizzy when he felt Newt’s breath on his skin. “Do you wanna know why?”

Hermann tried his best to sound irritated, but his voice barely came out as a whisper. “Why?” Newton didn’t answer with words. Instead, he closed the gap between their lips, and Hermann grabbed him by the lapels of his blazer almost unconsciously. The heat in Hermann’s cheeks seemed to bleed into the rest of his body, his veins thrumming with the beating of his heart. Newt grasped the back of his head and kissed him harder, their mouths sliding against each other in a way that felt almost desperate.

“Hermann...fuck, I love you.” Newt nuzzled his neck, kissing the sharp line of his jaw. “I love you, I love you, don’t you know? Didn’t you feel it?”

Hermann gasped, sliding his hands inside Newt’s blazer and pushing it off his shoulders. “I felt it, I just… I wasn’t sure how to say…” Newt reached down, pulling Hermann’s shirt out of his pants.

“Before I forget, lemme just say you look so fuckin’ good, babe.” Newton licked the shell of his ear and kissed the sensitive skin beneath his earlobe, sending a shiver through Hermann’s body. “Seriously, hot damn…”

“I -- ah, Tendo did it…” Newton grinned as he yanked Hermann’s suit jacket off, throwing it on the conference table.

“Uh-huh. I know. I asked him to make sure you’d be here.” Newt giggled, pressing his forehead against Hermann’s. “So I could do this.” Newton slid his hands underneath Hermann’s shirt and he gasped. God, he was so warm.

“I love that… about you.” Hermann slid his hand into Newton’s hair and pulled him back down gently, kissing him again. The rational part of his brain had succumbed to the needs of his body: the need to have Newton close, on top of him, around him; the need to make him feel how desperately he desired him.

“What?”

“Your warmth.” Hermann moaned when Newt’s hands found his nipples and rolled them between his fingertips. “Ahh, Newt, please…”

“Please what~?” Newton teased in a sing-song voice, pressing his knee between Hermann’s legs. Hermann yanked his hair and he yelped.

“Don’t forget, Newton, I’m still angry at you for that spectacle you caused in there. I might...decide to end this right here and now.” Newt whined.

“Oh, babe, please don’t… I’ll be good.” He grinned, sliding his suspenders off his shoulders and unbuttoning the first few buttons of his own shirt, revealing his colorful skin.

“Newton, come here _now_.” Hermann growled and Newton straddled Hermann, wrapping his arms around his neck and crushing their lips together again. Newt ground his hips against Hermann’s, moaning against the skin of Hermann’s neck.

“Herms, please -- ah, fuck, I want you, I want you now.” Hermann peppered kisses over the exposed skin of Newton’s chest, delighting in the nasal whine that escaped his lips.

“Not in a hotel conference room, Newton… I’m drunk, but I’m not that drunk.”

“Mmm, I am…” Hermann laughed breathily.

“Newton, you’re incorrigible.” He licked his lips and looked up at Newt, panting above him with flushed cheeks and heavily-lidded eyes. “Perhaps I could be convinced, after all.” Hermann slid his hands over Newton’s thighs, digging his fingertips in just enough to make Newt wince.

“Fuck, Hermann.” Newton moved down onto the floor, his head between Hermann’s legs, and immediately pressed his hot mouth to his groin. Hermann hissed and leaned his head back, hips shaking as Newton unzipped his trousers and pulled him out. He couldn’t deny that the thrill of doing this in public felt intoxicating, nearly as much as the three whiskey bitters he’d drank earlier.

“Ahh--! N-newton…” Hermann arched his hips upward, gripping Newton’s hair and relishing the low moan he made as he pushed his cock into his mouth. “Ohh, your -- mm, your mouth…”

“You like it?” Newt grinned up at Hermann, swirling his tongue over the tip before diving back in, taking him nearly to the root. Hermann stiffened and resisted the urge to fuck Newt’s mouth.

“N-not too much m-more… _Newton_ …” Newt pulled slowly off of his cock with a pop, biting his bottom lip and meeting Hermann’s gaze blearily.

"I want it. I want it in me, Herms.” Hermann chuckled, swiping his thumb over Newton’s lips, who took it in his mouth and sucked.

“Likewise. You’ll have to… ah, help me.” Newton jumped to his feet and unbuttoned his pants, shimmying them down to the knees and revealing his ass. Hermann practically felt his cock jump. He’d always admired that particular part of Newton’s anatomy, but he’d never in his life thought…

“Get in my jacket. I brought stuff.”

“Of course you did.” Hermann shook his head and fished into the pocket, pulling out a sleeve of condoms and a small bottle of lubricant. “I think you overestimated my stamina, Newton…”

“I like to come prepared.” Newton grinned behind him, sliding his right hand over his ass while leaning on the desk with his left. “Whoof, it’s getting hard to stand up…”

“Be careful, you. Lean over the desk.” Hermann rolled his chair closer to Newton, so that his ass was near the level of Hermann’s chin. “Mm.” Hermann slid his hand over the soft skin there before giving it a light slap, eliciting a yelp from Newton.

“Hey! Ahh...mmmfffuck…” Newt’s words left him fast after Hermann began swirling a lubricated finger over his opening, pressing it in to the first knuckle.

“You were saying?” Hermann murmured into the flesh of his ass, kissing and nipping it while he opened Newton up.

“Oh my God, Hermann, Hermann, more, more _please_ \--” Hermann shushed him, and Newton brought his voice down to a strained whimper. “Pleeeeease, Hermann, fuck…”

“All in good time. I’m drunk, but not drunk enough to hurt you needlessly. Besides, I’m enjoying this immensely.” Hermann dragged his lips down to Newt’s inner thigh. “As are you, I think?” Hermann chuckled and Newt moaned.

“Yes, holy shit, ahh…” Newt squirmed on the desk, his nails scrabbling against its lacquered surface. Hermann had stopped taking quick glances at the door; his love-drunk mind had decided he didn’t care if someone walked in on them.

“Newton, you don’t know how much…” Hermann felt a lump rise to his throat, his stomach a swirling mix of emotions. His voice wavers when he speaks again. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this.” Newton laughs raggedly, pushing back against his hand.

“Y-yeah, I do… Or at least I ha-have an idea. More please…” Hermann smirked and slid another finger inside beside the first, curling them gently and relishing the shiver that traveled down Newton’s spine. “Ah--” Newton buried his mouth in his arm. “Jesus Christ…”

“You’re so beautiful, Newton…” Hermann heard words tumbling out of his mouth, words he’d committed to paper and burned, words he’d mumbled into his pillow at night, words he’d said again and again in his dreams. “You’re perfect, so perfect…”

“More perfect...than David Ziolkowski?” He could tell Newton had meant it as a joke, but Hermann could hear a twinge of melancholy in his voice. Hermann rose to his feet carefully -- it was difficult with no cane and only one hand free -- and leaned over Newton, kissing the middle of his back, between Yamarashi’s eyes.

“David Ziolkowski doesn’t hold a candle to you, _mein Schatz_. How could he? You’re brilliant, so brilliant. I fell in love with your mind long before I met you, before I saw…” Hermann slid his hand over Newton’s soft body, the curves and muscle that dwelled beneath his skin. “You are perfection.” Newton moaned and bucked his hips as Hermann twisted his fingers and slid a third inside.

“God, Hermann, stop talking like that and fuck me already.” Hermann chuckled low in his throat, kissing down his back and easing himself back into the chair. His leg had already started to throb from his efforts.

“I’m underneath you. You’ll have to sit down.” Newt looked back at him and Hermann felt his cock throb at the deliciously lewd grin he shot at him. He slid a condom on as fast as he could, his hands shaking in a sudden fit of nervousness. This was really happening, he thought fleetingly to himself, thanking everything that he hadn’t drank much more, that he’d remember this the day after. He quietly hoped Newton would too.

As soon as Hermann had himself ready, Newt eased himself onto his cock, whimpering as he went down on him. Hermann closed his eyes and swallowed hard; the heat and tightness of him made him see stars. “Ahh, oh my god, Hermann…” Newt whined and almost immediately began fucking himself on his cock, before Hermann had really braced himself. He grabbed Newt’s hips and guided him down, giving his thigh a light slap when he pushed down too hard on his sore leg. “S-sorry, baby, just -- fuck, you’re so good, _fuck_ …” Hermann felt his chest contract when Newt called him “baby”. What a silly thing to call him, and yet it made his heart throw itself against his ribcage.

“Newton, ah -- I love you, I love you, Newton…” Hermann pressed his forehead against Newt’s back as he picked up the pace, closing his eyes and listening intently to his little whines and whimpers.

“H-hermann…” Newt reached back and placed his hands on top of Hermann’s, running his fingers along his forearm. “ _Harder_.”

* * *

 

Somehow, Hermann and Newt had put themselves back together enough after their tryst in the conference room to stumbled back to the Shatterdome, a solid hour before anyone else, save for a few early risers. They drew some stares as they giggled and held hands, pressing their heads together and whispering to each other like young lovers. Hermann almost felt like he’d regained all of the lost time, all of the years of loneliness and desperation… all thanks to a silly party. He supposed he couldn’t judge them too harshly anymore.

Newt pulled him into his quarters, shucking his clothes off as quickly as he could until he’d gotten down to his boxers, then starting in on Hermann’s clothes. He let him do as he liked, his energy totally spent and his mind too foggy to complain or question.

“Stay here with me tonight, Herm.” Newt reached up and whispered in his ear, gently tugging him by the hands into his bed.

“I don’t think I have much of a choice. My room is on the other side of the Dome. I’ll never make it on this leg.”

Newt chuckled. “Oh, darn…” He pulled Hermann on top of him, quickly rolling to the side to relieve him of any undue pressure on his sore leg. “God, Hermann… you know, I’d thought -- I thought I saw it inside your mind, but I still can’t believe…”

“Believe what?” Hermann closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against Newton’s warm chest. Consciousness had begun to elude him.

“That you’re here. With me. Right now. That you wore a suit with a pocket square. That you fucked me in a hotel conference room and didn’t once argue. That--”

“Newton. Hush.” Hermann laid his long fingers over Newton’s lips. “We can sort it all out tomorrow, love.” Newt bit his lip, tears of relief stinging his eyes.

“Y-yeah…” Newt’s voice cracked and he pulled Hermann closer, their legs tangling together, eyes fluttering shut. Maybe he’d wake up the next day and Hermann wouldn’t be there. Maybe he’d forget this ever happened, or maybe he’d want to forget. Newt didn’t let himself dwell on it. Perfect nights only came so often.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Mein Schatz - my treasure


End file.
